Coming Home
by kurgaya
Summary: IchiHitsu - T to be safe - What is the opposite of two? A lonely me, a lonely you. -Richard Wilbur


That day, that day  
What a marvellous mess  
Well this is all that I can do, I'm done to be me  
Sad, scared, small, alone, beautiful  
It's supposed to be like this, I accept everything  
It's supposed to be like this

**~ That Day by Natalie Imbruglia**

* * *

**January**

The charcoal steam locomotive waited patiently at the station, towering over the dozen or so black-cloaked shinigami milling around the burgundy platform, and the child-like figure standing off to one side wrapped his coat around himself tighter, the warm dark smoke pumping out of the giant train's funnel doing nothing to heat up the wintry January weather. Tōshirō was on his own, away from the smiling friends and the crying lovers, children, family, but he kept his sharp teal eyes focused on the light brown train carriage about - _four, five_ - six carriages down from the locomotive at the front that was still spilling the thick smoke. Obviously, but only to him it seems, this was a sign that the engine was wanting to get a move on to where ever it was headed for next, and Tōshirō almost chuckled when a shrill whistle echoed around the platform and a couple of people jumped in shock before running onto a carriage.

Ichigo laughed too, holding open one of the doors for a young girl and her boyfriend, and once they had found a seat somewhere along the carriage he leant against the frame of the open door, staring across the platform to settle his gaze on where his lover was standing, wrapped up in that new red coat he had given him for his birthday last month. The coat made him easy to spot from a distance, and so Ichigo watched Tōshirō scan the train for him, for wearing black on a black train probably wasn't the best idea. Ichigo shrugged mentally, knowing that his hair was bold enough to cancel the black out, and it was when he laughed full-heartedly when Tōshirō sneezed that said boy finally spotted him.

Tōshirō scowled, for he knew Ichigo was laughing at him, and crossed his arms. He would have looked away so he didn't have to watch, but he feared that if he removed his eyes from Ichigo he wouldn't find him again.

Just over a week ago Ichigo was asked to go on an _incredibly important_ mission by the Captain Commander. Now that the war was over they didn't have to worry about not being prepared for when Aizen decided to attack, and so Ichigo easily agreed to the mission, as he was supposedly the best choice. Tōshirō didn't know what the mission was exactly, but he didn't really care to be honest, but it was with a disheartened frown that Ichigo returned from the 1st division that day to tell him that it was a long term mission, and he didn't know how long he was going to be away.

And now here they were, at the station, wondering when they were going to see each other again.

The slam of the doors snapped Tōshirō from his miserable thoughts, and he looked over at where Ichigo had been standing, only to see that the door was indeed shut, and that the man was no where in sight. A brief panic momentarily bubbled up inside of him and he stepped forward

_- ok, ok, I've changed my mind, don't leave! -_

and then the train lurched to a start, another whistle resounding around the, now, half empty platform, and it was only when a low ranked shinigami crashed into him that Tōshirō stopped moving; everything had come to a stop, a sudden, scary stop as the wheels of the locomotive turned at the carriages _- four, five, six, seven -_ disappeared out of sight. The faceless shinigami bowed in apology to the taicho and then continued on his way, completely oblivious to the look on horror and desperation forming on the white haired males' face.

Tōshirō didn't know how long he stood there, the chill of January snapping at his heels like an annoying Terrier, but it was with surprise that he turned to a tall stranger offering him a steaming cup of coffee. The man didn't say anything, and neither did the taicho, but Tōshirō took the cup with gratitude and the man walked off with a bow. His hands were welcoming of the calm hot rolling off the cup in waves, and teal eyes watched the man walk into a little shop about half way down the platform. The little gold bell rang when the little door opened, and once the man had stepped inside the door slipped shut, leaving the taicho watching from a distance.

And Tōshirō was alone, standing on the desolate burgundy platform, with the white sky above him darkening with the smoke pouring from the locomotive speeding off into the distance.

* * *

**February**

"If I say 'Happy Valentine's Day taicho', will you freeze me on the spot? Or worse, force me to do my paperwork?"

The delicate brush in the small pale hand stopped moving, and Rangiku Matsumoto tensed up as the temperature in the moderate office dropped by a few degrees. So maybe that hadn't been the best thing to say, she mused, watching her taicho slump sadly in his seat. "Sorry taicho," she mumbled, honestly feeling guilty for what she said. It had been about a month since Ichigo had been sent away on a mission, and a whole month since the two lovers of god-knows-how-many-years had seen each other. At first her taicho's depression was minimal, and she barely noticed it, but working under him (over him?) for so many years had taught her how to notice the small things, and her taicho was certainly good at hiding things if he wanted them to remain hidden. Yet as time went on she could see his ice mask thinning, and eventually, hopefully not, it was going to crack at some point.

She just hoped Ichigo would be back by then.

Her taicho threw down his inked brush, the wet liquid splashing across the desk, but it seems he didn't give a damn and his shoulders slumped even further. Matsumoto knew she had made him think about Ichigo, and she winced; Ichigo was a taboo topic now in the 10th division, and the first time a lower seated officer had mentioned the word he had almost been frozen on the spot. And that was only yesterday.

Ironically, it had been while he and another officer were talking about Valentine's Day, and the taicho just happened to get caught in the middle of the conversation.

Oops indeed.

"Sorry taicho," the busty woman said again, and then she realized how depressed she was being so she plastered a large smile on her face and said, "But happy Valentine's Day taicho! I'm thinking of going out with Shuuhei and Kira tonight so I can't do my paperwork, hope you don't mind doing it." No response. "I knew I could count on you taicho! You really are the best taicho in - "

There was a quiet sigh and Matsumoto knew that she had said enough.

* * *

**March**

Tōshirō wondered how the mission was going. It was the middle of March now, and the sun was starting to come out of hiding, and the small taicho, sitting at his desk as was normal on a weekday, wished that Ichigo and anything related to Ichigo would come out of hiding too, just like that burning ball of gas in the sky. Ichigo was like the sun too, ok, he wasn't a burning ball of gas cause that would just be wrong, but he did light up the day with his smile and he had melted the ice fortress around Tōshirō's heart.

Tōshirō sighed, and continued to wonder how the mission was going.

See the thing was, there had been no word from Ichigo since he left, no call, no letter, no nothing.

It was _worrying_.

He still didn't know what Ichigo was meant to be doing on his mission, so all Tōshirō could assume was that he was either somewhere so far away that he was unable to send a message, or he just didn't have the time. Now if he was a love-struck girl he would then add, 'or he just didn't care' but Tōshirō knew that Ichigo did in fact care, and care a lot.

And that was when the dark cloud settled over his head, zapping down through his already spiky hair and planting daunting thoughts into his panicking brain.

Great! Now he was _doubting_ himself!

**Ichigo Kurosaki loves you, and that's not going to change**, informed Hyorinmaru's dignified voice, and with one quick blow of icy air the cloud above his master's head had vanished. **There is no reason to doubt your love with him. Now why don't you go and check for any mail?**

That seemed like a good idea to the taicho, so he thanked his zanpakuto as the dragon curled back up with a smile, and retreated from his office, vowing only to come back to the paperwork if there was no letter.

Dejectedly, his desk was exactly where he ended up ten minutes later, the words of his paperwork teasing him of the absence of words from his other half. Tōshirō threw down his currently inked brush and sighed once again, folding his arms on the desk and resting his snowy head on them with a tired groan. For some reason he felt like this was going to continue being a daily occurrence for quite some time.

* * *

**April**

With Ichigo gone, Tōshirō began to realize things. The first and foremost being that his day wasn't quite as lively as it once used to be, even with Matsumoto popping into the office every so often to bug him, but his most recent discovery, which really should have been his first (though he guessed he could blame Matsumoto for not doing her paperwork so he had less time to do what he wanted, like sleep) was that it was awfully lonely at night when there wasn't somebody there with you.

Of course, he had spent most of his life sleeping without somebody there, but when you did have somebody to hold you at night, to suddenly lose them was a bit of a shock.

Not to mention it didn't _feel_ right.

At first he thought he was just being stupid, and so he assured himself that the bed hadn't actually gotten any bigger, and that not hearing Ichigo breathing beside him was ok, but when he woke up screaming one night because of a nightmare, the fear and desperation of needing Ichigo there over-whelmed him so much that he sat there, hugging his knees and rocking back and forth, trying to stop the tears by himself, sobbing his lover's name like the frightened child that he was.

It _sickened_ him to feel so weak. _(He was not weak, he could look after himself, he wasn't a child!)_ Every night he felt small and vulnerable in the dark empty room that was his own, but he wasn't weak, _he was not_, and so he hid it all inside and went back to sleep by himself, curling up tightly around the spare pillow he had salvaged from another room in the division.

(But only after the tears had stopped).

* * *

**May**

Today had not been a good day. He hoped it would be, but alas he hoped for a lot of things and Fate was just deciding to spit in his face in rejection every time he asked for something, and so when he returned to his division with his reiatsu flaring his officers wisely kept their distance. He was cranky enough as it was - _five months!_ - and so it had been with that in mind that he went to visit in grandmother in the 1st district that morning.

It seemed like an innocent enough idea, and for the most part it had been. She had been as welcoming and kind as normal, chatting pleasantly with him about absolutely anything and everything, but it was when he had caught onto the, almost hidden, look of confusion that flashed across her ageing face, he asked her what was bothering her.

She, in turn, had asked where Ichigo was, and why her grandson seemed so down.

Tōshirō hadn't known he was crying till she swept him up into a hug and apologised softly in his ear, gently running a hand through his snow-kissed hair in a manner that just made him cry even more. A round of sobs and hiccups later he told her where Ichigo was, on a mission, and that he had been away since January. On top of that there was still no word from him, and he still checked the mail every day, and he felt that he was slowly losing his way without his guiding light beside him.

His grandmother had not been smiling.

That made him feel even worse.

The topic of Ichigo had been avoided after that, and the tears and sobs forgotten, the taicho had had an alright day. When the sun began to set he had decided it was time to leave, and he promised to visit again soon as he waved to her from the dusty path, the last of the plate of watermelon in his hands. He savoured that last piece of melon, only biting occasionally, yet his brief moment of happiness was quickly destroyed when he remembered where exactly he was, what his connection was to that place, and why on earth the other villages were giving him dirty looks and taking the utmost care to avoid crossing paths with him.

For the first time in five months, Tōshirō was glad Ichigo was not there to find out that very well-kept secret that the villages were hissing at him;

"_Demon_."

Tōshirō frowned and kept walking, his old habits coming back to him and the pride and power of being a taicho was cast of to the harsh wind as he picked up the pace and averted his eyes from the cold, merciless stares he was getting from all around.

He wasn't even going to bother asking Fate to make them stop, for he knew what he would get in reply.

* * *

**June**

Tōshirō stared at the calender laid out before him on the desk. He had just crossed off 'June 1st' with a big fat, angry stroke of the brush and that, my dear readers, only meant one thing...

Half... a... year...

He sighed heavily and sat back against his chair. The weather was warm now and the soft breeze flowing in through the open window was cool as it danced around his hair and brushed his cheek. It was pathetic really, he mused sadly, because everything reminded him of Ichigo.

Ichigo Kurosaki... Damn, that name was almost foreign to him; almost foreign to everybody in Soul Society. Tōshirō was certain he wasn't the only one missing the hot-headed ginger but Abarai had Miss Kuchiki and Matsumoto had, not that she knew it yet, Hisagi, and those two morons from the 11th division had each other, but here he was, sitting in his office, alone.

His shoulders slumped. He wanted to see his other half again, and he wasn't even going to deny it. He couldn't deny it, not any more. Pushing the calender from the desk, hearing it hitting the ground with a 'fwumph', he reached over to the ever-growing stack of paperwork and got down to work, eager to distance his thoughts from the one -

No, he couldn't go there. Think work, not boyfriend. Work. _Work_.

It wasn't until Matsumoto pulled the brush out of his hand four hours later that he realized he hadn't written anything. Her sky blue eyes gazed down at him uncertainly but he ignored her and tried to snatch back the brush.

"No taicho," she said firmly, holding the item high and out of reach. Her other hand shot forward in a 'stop' sign and Tōshirō recoiled away from it as if it had teeth.

"Yes fukutaicho," Tōshirō spat back, frowning at her. His eyes were fixed on her calm face, and he held out his hand for the brush in her possession as if will power alone would magic it back to him. However she was immune to his icy glares and kept the brush away, mentally noting that if he wasn't so out of it he would realize there were always extra brushes in the top left drawer.

"You need to get out of the office taicho," she informed, her hand still in a 'stop' sign.

"No I don't."

"Yes, you do," she snapped back, and she dropped the brush to the floor. "You need a drink, and so I'm taking you to the bar."

Tōshirō blinked. "A _drink_?" he repeated, wondering how on earth she had come to that conclusion. "Matsumoto, I do not want any sake, and I do not feel the need to have some."

It was her turn to frown, and the taicho suddenly felt very small under her gaze. "Taicho. Trust me on this one. You've been tense for weeks, let's go and drink it away."

Tōshirō grumbled something rude but feeling Hyorinmaru poke the back of his mind made him consider his fukutaicho's offer, and he sighed, standing and crossing his arms. "Fine," he agreed, and Matsumoto did not jump for joy like he thought she would.

Instead she nodded, and held out her hand. "Come on taicho," she said softly, much like a mother to her child. "I'll look after you."

* * *

**July**

His night out last month with Matsumoto had helped him unwind for a while, but in the long run, it hadn't done any good. She had forced him to try virtually every single different type of alcoholic drink the bar had to offer and then, once he had chosen a favourite, proceeded to get him excessively drunk on it. The two of them, and anybody else in the bar that night, had found out he was, luckily, not violent when he was drunk, nor did he act like a moron like some people, but in lieu he became quiet and reserved and rather emotional.

Scratch that, _very_ emotional.

If it had been anybody else they probably would have laughed at seeing the cold taicho of the 10th incredibly drunk and in tears, but it had been Matsumoto and she had just let him cry on her shoulder, stroking his hair and telling him that everything was going to be fine while he blabbered out miserable nonsense and let loose all of his woes and worries of the 'hows', 'whys', and 'whens' of Ichigo's mission and hopeful return.

After all and all things considered, she was his fukutaicho, and she was his friend.

And now, one month later, Tōshirō was considering getting drunk more often. A strange thought for him, yes, but Ichigo's birthday was coming up and... well, he didn't need to say any more did he? The present for him was already tucked under the office desk, wrapped up and waiting, but Tōshirō had a feeling that the shinigami wasn't going to recieve it for quite a while - how could he, when Tōshirō had absolutely no idea where he was?

Since Ichigo hadn't been around for... a while... Tōshirō hadn't been quite sure what to get him for when he returned. He was perfectly sure Ichigo would be content with a hug and a mumbled, embarrassed 'happy birthday' but he deserved more than that. A lot more. (In all honesty Tōshirō thought that Ichigo deserved to come home from his mission but he didn't mention it to anybody lest he wanted Fate to spit on him again). So the taicho had spent weeks fretting over what exactly he was going to get his lover, only to then realize that he wasn't going to be home to get it.

Hence the reason the present wrapped up was only a collar, and not an actual cat.

* * *

**August**

He didn't give a damn that it was summer, he was wearing his thick red coat and nobody was going to stop him. Summer was hot, and he hated it with the whole of his frozen heart, but, standing at the burgundy station watching the birds swoop around the platform and the sun melting the path, for once he didn't care because he could see the smoke of a train coming in from the distance.

It was pure fortune that made him go to the station today and stop by to see if there was a train coming in, for he had only been stopping by once or twice a week, depending on how he felt. The blare of the whistle sounded closer, and Tōshirō looked up, as did the other people waiting, as the deep blue of the pulling in locomotive.

Tōshirō bit his bottom lip. The train Ichigo left on had not been blue.

_Did it matter?_

Said locomotive slowed to a harsh stop and let out a heavy sigh as the carriage doors began to open one by one. A woman to his right looked up expectantly, eyes filled with hope, and Tōshirō wondered if that's what he looked like watching the population of the station sudden double and triple in size.

A boy to his left let out a roar and tackled his best mate, a married couple just to the right bid each other farewell, two sisters chatting aimlessly as their father picked up their bags, and the women from moments before greeted a rather dashing young man wearing a hat.

Yet... no Ichigo. Disappointment bubbled up inside of him and he undid the top few buttons of his coat, the summer heat starting to win. And without rush the station began to empty and the train moved on in the background of the cheerful atmosphere, and Tōshirō suddenly felt very out of place standing on his own and out of way. He must've looked it, for someone tapped him on the shoulder, so he turned to ask what was wrong, only to be presented with a cool glass of ice water.

His expression border-lining surprise Tōshirō thanked the man, the same one who had given him that coffee all those months ago, and without a word they parted ways, one sipping the glass of water and the other grinning at a woman standing outside the little shop about halfway down the platform.

* * *

**September**

She was standing off to the side of the 10th division barracks, her arms folded under her chest and back leaning against one of the entrance corridor walls. She was perfectly sure her taicho knew she was standing there but he made no move to send her on the merry way so that he could continue training in peace. She had actually been watching him right from the start of this day's training, right from when he went and borrowed some of the shinigami dummies from the 12th division (they were so fun to beat up), up to now as he unleashed his shikai with a yell and wiped out the whole make-shift battlefield.

Training was probably the only thing that kept his mind occupied nowadays, because paperwork was just too quiet to prevent distracting thoughts. Matsumoto wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck as the sudden chill of the frozen landscape kicked in but she continued to watch the small taicho dance on the ice, the silver moon on the end of Hyorinmaru's chain glistening in the moonlight.

She bit her lip. It wasn't training any more.

He was _crying_.

"I'm going to kill you when you get back Ichigo," she muttered to herself. Though she did know it was not entirely Ichigo's fault, for neither of them knew how long the mission was going to go on for, and Matsumoto just couldn't believe how attached her taicho was to the idiot. Yes they were in a relationship and had been so for a rather long time, but this was Tōshirō Hitsugaya she was talking about - need she say more?

"He's just a kid," she told herself, never taking her eyes off of the sharpened point of the twirling blade in pale hands. "He's a lonely and depressed child waiting for someone to come home."

Her gaze softened at this sentence. He had been waiting for so long. Too long. She didn't understand how he could stand it -

_Oh wait, he can't, silly woman,_ she snapped at herself. _Have you seen how clingy he is to Ichigo's stuff? I mean look, even today he's wearing that green scarf that Ichigo's had for years._

Truth be told the taicho was wrapped up in an emerald scarf and Matsumoto sighed, stepping forward to stop the other before he hurt himself with those anger filled attacks that she knew weren't going to stop any time soon.

* * *

**October**

He couldn't sleep again, and tired of tossing and turning in bed he had retreated to his and Ichigo's home's roof. It was well into the night and there was nobody about, but the only loneliness he felt was from the empty side of his heart, the side that had been empty for a lengthy period of time now, and not from the fact that the silence settling around him was kinda spooky. Mind you, he liked the silence for you could hear all those noises that you didn't usually hear in your average day, but more so because before he became a shinigami and while he lived in the Rukongai, silence was all he had.

Tōshirō put his arms behind his head and laid back, behind his knees up and then crossing his left leg over his right. It wasn't the most comfortable position in the world, but he wasn't here to try and sleep. The full glowing moon was high above him and Tōshirō stared. He was lonely, yes, but imagine how lonely the moon must be? There are loads of stars up there, but they're all billions of miles away; the closest thing to the moon was, well, Earth, and Tōshirō reached up, ignoring the sleeve of his yukata that fell down past his bony elbow, and stretched his hand out towards the sky as if he could just reach that companion-less moon.

"Where are you Ichigo?" he whispered aloud, lowering his arm after a moments pause. Was he safe? Tired? Well looked after? Happy?

Was he under the same moon? Were night and day the same for them both? Did he know when he was going to return?

It was late October now, not quite late enough to be what Ichigo called 'Halloween' but late enough that the days were slowly starting to slip into November, and the preparations for New Year were creeping into the back of people's minds. Tōshirō didn't a damn about New Year, he just...

New Year.

_Fuck_.

**Think of something else little one**, rang Hyorinmaru's wise voice, also reminding the taicho that he was never alone.

Said taicho almost snorted. _Hyorinmaru_, he said in a flat tone. _If I tell you not to think of elephants, what do you think of?_

A thoughtful pause, nearly uncertain. **Elephants?**

Tōshirō nodded and 'hmmm'ed in response, slipping his eyes shut. _Exactly Hyorinmaru, exactly._

**I don't understand Master.**

Tōshirō sighed heavily. _Just leave it you nosy dragon; asking me to stop thinking about Ichigo is like asking the moon to stop rising every night, it's not going to happen._

Hyorinmaru settled down. **You and the moon are nothing alike.**

The taicho had a feeling the dragon was going to say something like that so it didn't come as much of a surprise. _Nothing alike Hyorinmaru? _he asked. _Do you really think so?_

* * *

**November**

It was while sitting underneath his desk with a huge bowl of strawberry and mint ice-cream that Tōshirō remembered that he was going to get a cat for Ichigo's birthday - well, his return he should say for the cat was already planned but he just hadn't got it yet. Though... was it still a birthday present? Four months late but here you go! Tōshirō quickly decided that he didn't care what occasion the cat was for and eat another spoonful of ice cream.

And yes, in case you didn't quite catch it, he was sitting under his desk. With a bowl of ice cream. And a wrapped up cat collar.

"Meow," he said, and then he stuffed the spoon in his mouth to shut himself up. Dear god he was going mad! Depression was finally catching up with him! Oh Fate must be having a laugh where ever the idiot was, watching him sitting under a desk and meowing to himself.

That sounded so stupid. Thank god Matsumoto wasn't around to hear it.

Not that she could read his thoughts...

He needed more ice cream. Now. Before he went insane.

**Master**, Hyorinmaru said uncertainly. The dragon had been a lot more talkative lately, Tōshirō noted, licking the last of the ice cream off of the spoon. **Maybe you should go to sleep? I'm sure the stress of the paperwork has just gotten to you, you did have a lot to do today.**

_I'm fine Hyorinmaru_, Tōshirō said. _I just... ice cream helps numb the pain._

He could see the dragon frowning. **I meant mentally little one**, the beast added, concerned. **You are acting... strange.**

_Again, I'm fine Hyorinmaru_, the taicho repeated, eating some more ice cream. _I just never realized I would miss Ichigo so much; he was always there when I needed him._

**So where is he now?**

Tōshirō dropped the spoon into the bowl and placed the bowl on the floor. _Please don't ask me that Hyorinmaru. But it's ok, I'll be fine._

Hyorinmaru growled softly and Tōshirō suddenly got the feeling of a pair of giant wings wrapping around him gently. **Maybe you should buy the cat before Ichigo returns, to keep you company.**

The white haired male smiled. _That'll be chaos. Thank you for the suggestion, but I'll survive for a little longer._

The quiet dragon wasn't completely convinced.

* * *

**December**

"Happy birthday to me~... Happy birthday to me~..."

* * *

**January**

"Taicho! Taicho, taicho, look at this!" was how Tōshirō knew that 2nd of January morning, sitting at his desk, that his fukutaicho was about to burst into the office with something probably very very stupid.

Yet he was wrong, he quickly found out when she ran into and slammed a piece of paper down on the desk. Her frantic blue eyes bore down into his, and he sighed, put down the brush and screwed up the piece of paper that he had been doodling on to pick up the message that Matsumoto had plonked down in front of him.

_Mission #7 in London - complete and checked by Captain Stuart West of the 7th squad, English Soul Society._  
_Member of Japanese Soul Society Ichigo Kurosaki is to return home on January the 2nd, 2:29 PM by The Calling Express._  
_Please send a note to Hitsugaya-taicho of the 10th division, Japan, informing him of such._

_Signed, Alan Parker, Vice-Captain of the 7th division, England._

_P.S. Please don't send Mr. Kurosaki on a long term mission again, he was bloody well miserable._  
_P.S.S Excuse my Vice-Captain's note, Ichigo did a wonderful job but is very glad to be coming home._

"Matsumoto..." Tōshirō said weakly, almost dropped the paper in his hands.

"Yes taicho?" she said, the look on her face halfway between a gape and a smile.

"What time is it?"

The fukutaicho rapidly checked the clock on the wall as her taicho carefully set down the note as if it was active and dangerous. "2 oclock - I think you better get down to the station."

He was already gone; the chair the red coat had been on slowly tipped over to her right, and Matsumoto let loose her smile and skipped away, locking the office behind her knowing that her taicho would not be returning for the rest of the day.

Meanwhile Tōshirō was already standing in his usual spot at the station, slipping on his coat and buttoning it up. Unlike normal he had already gone and got himself a coffee and was now sipping it nervously as he watched the other people wander around the burgundy station like lost sheep.

Today... He knew Ichigo would be here today...

And he didn't have to wait long. Within five minutes he could hear the steady beat of the train along the tracks, and he didn't even bother looking up to watch the black locomotive with the words 'The Calling Express' written in silver along the side pull up with a sharp halt, nor did he glance over, as much as he wanted to, when the doors began to bang open and people let out squeals of delight.

The only action he did take, a matter of seconds later as hurried footsteps approached, was to rudely ignore the beaming smile on his other half's face, drop the half empty plastic cup of coffee to the ground, spin around and, when he was in reach, hit Ichigo Kurosaki in the face.

"You bastard!" he yelled, his teal eyes glowing angrily as Ichigo stumbled backwards with a cry, a hand shooting up to hold his aching jaw. "A year! A year you left me you moron! Do you know how lonely and sick with worry I've been! No mail, no calls, no sign that you were even alive and here you are now, smiling like nothing has just happened, and don't even think about blurting out some excuse because...!"

He trailed off here, finally locking eyes with the tall orange head standing beside him.

"You've gotten taller," he finished, mumbling out the first thing that came to his mind.

Ichigo laughed loudly and swooped down to pull Tōshirō into a hug. "You haven't," he replied, kissing the top of the white hair, and Tōshirō felt his heart melt at Ichigo's words, at Ichigo's voice. "Oh god I missed you so much."

"Hmm," Tōshirō agreed, burying his face in Ichigo's shikashou and wrapping his arms around the welcoming body before him. "Leave me again and I'll break your legs."

Chuckling again Ichigo squeezed his lover tighter, absent-mindedly hearing The Calling Express set off on it's next journey. "If I leave you again I give you every right to knock me into next week."

Tōshirō smiled for what seemed like the first time in months. "I got you a birthday present," he said randomly, not wanting to stop Ichigo from talking. "But I guess you can have it as a coming home gift instead."

Ichigo tried to pull away but Tōshirō hung on tighter. Rolling his brown eyes he remained where he was, kissing Tōshirō again. "Is it sex?" he asked hopefully.

Tōshirō snorted. "Trust me if you try having sex with this gift you'll lose your dick."

Ichigo grinned wildly. "Are you _sure_ you're not my gift? I'm fairly sure you threatened me with that when - Ow, dammit, that hurt!"

"Suck it up or I won't buy you a cat."

Chocolate eyes lit up. "A cat? You got me a cat?"

"Yes I got you a - " he was abruptly stopped mid-sentence when Ichigo tugged on his arm and dragged him down the platform merrily. "Come on, I want a cat!" the ginger yelled, pumping a fist into the air. "I'm going to name him 'Snuffles'!"

* * *

**Please review, and on a side note I don't know when the next chapter to TOHH will be up because I haven't even started it yet. Sorry.**

**I hope you enjoyed it Toshirokun13 and did it live up to your expectations?**

**Night,**

**xTKx**


End file.
